


Birthday greetings

by AutomatonAmI



Category: The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August - Claire North
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutomatonAmI/pseuds/AutomatonAmI
Summary: Harry is fifty. He is five hundred years old. Vincent decides the old man needs to have some fun for once.
Relationships: Harry August/Vincent Rankis
Kudos: 2





	1. Master planner Vincent Rankins

Growing up the way I did, and living the way I do, I was never one for celebrating birthdays. As a kid money was short, so birthdays weren't much different then any other day, and by the time I was a kid again time has started to lose the meaning it had for linears.

Despite all this, I did remember. I was born January first 1919, and being a mnemonic I managed to keep count of my age. I kept track of both my ages - my linear age and my collected age, over my many lives. The age of my mind.

In my eighth life my two ages synchronized into a neat coincidence that would've made my colleagues in the math department happy, if only they knew. I was fifty. I was five hundred years old.

I would've dismissed the day with a quick moment of glee at how time manages to keep surprising even me, but destiny had other plans.

By destiny, I, of course, refer to my friend and student of many years and a few lives, Vincent Rankins. He would've called me a fool for buying into the idea of destiny. I don't believe in destiny, I don't think any of our kind could, but such was Vincent.

The days' events started, as many of my days did at the time, with Vincent storming into my office and proclaiming something with the upmost confidence. "It's your birthday today, professor August."

"It is. May I ask what you're doing in my office at the lovely hour of 9am?"

"I'm here to celebrate the birthday of a dear friend. Is that too much to ask?" He sat down without asking, as usual. A thin smile grew on his face.

"Oh, I've seen that smile before... you're planning something, you... you horrible devil." Despite this, I couldn't help smiling back.

"Isn't the saying 'Handsome Devil'?"

"Don't fuel your own ego, you already have a lifetime supply."

Vincent chuckled. We locked eyes and I could see something soft in his gaze. "I made some plans."

"Some plans?" I raised an eyebrow, "you know I don't celebrate birthdays."

"Come on, you old bastard. I'm great at planning events. Don't you remember how much fun we had on that double date lives ago? _I_ planned that!"

"If my memory is correct, it was an utterly miserable experience."

"Please, Harry. Trust me on this. This time instead of two ladies you barely like there would one mister you absolutely adore." He straightened his already straight tie, making him look comical and almost drunk.

I rolled my eyes at him. " _Fine_. If it goes wrong you're responsible for all the medical bills."


	2. Rumor weaver Vincent Rankins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Vincent go back to a familiar place.

The one birthday celebration that stands out for me, when thinking back, is my thirtieth birthday in my fourth life. Jenny cooked, and we watched a silly comedy over cake and wine. I was the happiest man in the world.

Vincent, being the social moth that he is, had a different kind of plan.

First he insisted we go to one of the local parks. To be more specific, one if the local parks, the one in which we took two ladies on a terrible punting trip lives ago.

We walked all the way to the river, Vincent leading the way, before I caved in and started complaining again. "Really? Here? That's your great plan"

"Yes."

We stood in silence for a couple minutes while Vincent struggled to push our little boat. "I thought you'd say more."

"What more is there to say?" He finally got the boat into the river with a grunt. "Can you grab my bag?"

"Yes, of course." I grabbed the bag and got in. My socks were wet. "I don't know. You always had a knack for speeches."

"Don't worry, you'll probably get a speech or two by the end of the day."

"Oh no..." I said softly.

"What was that?" Vincent smiled and pushed us off shore.

"What? Nothing, I love your speeches." We started idly spiraling down the river.

I did love Vincent's speeches. After living many lives I started to despise speeches in weddings, birthdays or such other social events, but Vincent was different. Mist of the time it was just the two of us, and dealing with some sort of ridiculous hypothetical science. It was familiar.

After a few minutes of calm silence and spinning in place, Vincent attended to his bag. "I brought some stuff."

"Stuff."

"Wine. Pastries from that bakery you pretend you don't go to every morning."

"It's 10am. Not exactly the time to get drunk."

"What I hear is that you have one foolish reason stopping you from getting drunk. What is time for us, anyway?"

I grunted. "Oh God, don't start with this. I prefer to be drunk."

"Hooray!" He popped the cork out of the bottle.

We passed the bottle back and forth, and I looked around while eating a little more pastries than reccomend. I noticed students walking around, and even one or two faculty members. "What do you think it would do to our reputation if someone noticed us?" I smiled, but I think Vincent noticed the slight worry in my voice.

"You're talking about the rumor going around that we're dating?"

I glared at him in surprise. "Arr, yes actually, that's what I'm talking about."

He took the wine bottle from me and took a swig dramatically. The slight blush of drunkenness was already spreading on his face. "Who do you think started that rumor?" He laughed, and I hated him, and it suddenly dawned on me that I loved him.


	3. True gentleman Vincent Rankins

By the time we managed to reach shore one again, it was already lunchtime. We were both slightly drunk, but not enough to immediately raise suspicion on first glance.

"How are you feeling, Harry darling?" Vincent asked, mimicking the posh British accents of cheap Hollywood movies.

"Pleasantly buzzed," I answered, feeling the most calm I felt in years. "I can't believe you actually started that rumor."

Vincent looked off, staring. "Well, you know how it is... you have to spice up life sometimes. We already spend so much time together, people would've started speculating on their own."

"Ah, well. An admission of guilt is always better than a conviction, right?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean by that." I smiled at his pretend, at his attempt to shrug off an embarrassing truth he brought up.

Vincent blushed, more than could be attributed to midday drunkenness. "If you insist. Let's get you a good lunch, maybe you'll shut up already."

"You're pampering me."

"I will punch you, right now."

"I know you like to, Vince, but I also know you won't."

He did not.

* * *

Lunch was indeed good, I will admit. We both ordered fish and chips, although I ate most of Vincent's chips. In return he ate almost all of my cake.

It wasn't a very good cake. He just likes to get back at me.

* * *

"Is that all? I'm getting tired."

"Oh, don't be such an ungrateful bastard. I planned stuff." Vincent said, fabricating anger.

"I guess you're right," I sighed. "You're truly a gentleman and I am forever grateful."

Vincent chuckled. "You better be."

"I am. You've been a great friend to me."

"A friend... yes." Vincent whispered. I'm not certain if he wanted me to hear it or not. "Well, you have a few hours to rest before I'll come pick you up for the evening half of the birthday celebration. Get some rest, soldier!"

"Will do, captain!" I laughed and hugged him, and first the first time I didn't care about a foolish rumor. 


	4. Middle-aged heartthrob Vincent Rankins

At half past six, Vincent was promptly stood at the door of my apartment, ready for his evening scheming. I had just promptly awoken from a nap, and was dressed in my best lousy old clothes.

"Soldier, stand at attention! It's time for more birthday shenanigans." Vincent gave me a small salute, giggling.

"Ugh. I'm sorry, I just woke up. Please come in, I'll just get dressed and be ready." I motioned him to small living room.

Vincent hesitated at the door. "I... I assumed you'd be ready by the time I arrive."

"I know, I apologize deeply..." I stumbled over my words as I noticed him shifting in his place, hiding something. "Vincent. You have a secret plan."

"You know me so well!" He laughed dryly.

"What is it? Spit it out already," I smiled, expecting some silly time-sensitive plan, to ridiculous to execute.

He revealed his hand from behind him. He held a single red rose. "Happy birthday, Harry..."

"What is this?" I almost whispered.

Vincent looked around, almost panicked. "Can we have this conversation inside?"

"Of course." We sat together at my old ragged sofa, like we did many evenings before. 

"Also, would you mind putting some trousers on first?"

We locked eyes for a couple seconds and almost burst out laughing. "Yes. Yes, of course, I'm sorry," I dressed hastily, ending up looking comically disheveled, but at least I was dressed. "What is this all about, Vince?"

Vincent refused to meet my eye anymore. "Harry, why... why do you think I did all this? The birthday plans, the rumor... everything we've done together, for decades?"

"We're friends. And the nature of what we are brought us closer together, more than any linears could," I said, staring at him dumbly.

Vincent chuckled. "Harry, you're an absolute fool."

"So you've told me, many many times."

He handed me the rose. "Harry, please..."

I reached to take it, and let my hand linger on his. "You're running around something."

"I love you, Harry. I... I'm sorry..." he started crying, staring at his feet, refusing to look at me.

"Oh, Vincent..." I took his hands in mine. "What are you crying for? Do you really think I managed to spend all thse decades without growing fond of you?"

"Fond... yes. Maybe. Find in the way that close friends are _fond_."

"You know that's not what you mean, you nightmare. If I wouldn't have loved you, I would have suffered through all these hours of philosophical babbling."

"It was that bad?" Vincent cracked a smile, his face still wet.

"No, not really. It was with you, after all." I handed him a handkerchief. "Now clean your face."

He finally met my gaze and laughed weakly. "Now we're both messes."

"You say that like it isn't our natural state."

"Ah, well..." Vincent looked at his wristwatch. "Oh lord, we're going to be late."

We both hurried to make ourselves look as presentable as we could. We hesitated at the door, the confession feeling unfinished.

I gently put a hand to Vincent's face. "I love you too, dear."

We kissed hastily and headed out, to whatever else Vincent planned for the night.


End file.
